


Break

by markihost



Category: Video Blogging RPF, jacksepticeye
Genre: Fight Scene, Gen, Self-Harm, Self-Loathing, Torture, Unhappiness, au where anti is a physical manifestation of Jack's negative feelings, self vs. self, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-08
Updated: 2017-02-08
Packaged: 2018-09-22 19:20:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9621989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/markihost/pseuds/markihost
Summary: "As you lie here, bleeding out, I want you to remember your fears. Your anxieties. Your self-loathing. Your hatred. I want you to remember that they are what makes me me. You. Made. Me."  (A brief, experimental fic in which Anti is a physical manifestation of all of Jack's negative feelings).





	

**Author's Note:**

> To my lovely readers,
> 
> This fic is the most violent of all the ones I've written thus far. I've given it a Mature rating and warned against violence, but it is DARK, my dudes. PLEASE DO NOT READ if violence, self-loathing, or self-harm are triggers for you.
> 
> Thank you.

He revelled in chaos.

His kitchen reflected that perfectly. Pots and pans were strewn across the dusty off-white tile floor, mixed with shards of plates. And lying facedown on top of the whole mess, his throat rattling as he struggled to express the pain he was in, was his dear doppelganger.

 _Jack had definitely seen better days,_ Anti mused. He stepped in front of Jack as the porcelain pieces crunched underfoot. Kneeling down, he grabbed Jack’s highlighter neon green hair and yanked his head up.

The YouTuber’s eyes were glazed over. They barely ran over the dark Christmas tree shade of Anti’s hair peeking out from underneath the pitch black hoodie that the menace wore, and they couldn’t take in the smug smirk on the man’s face.  **He wasn’t paying attention.**

Dropping Jack’s head back into the glass led to another scream. He then jumped up from his kneeling position and kicked Jack square in the stomach, and then his chest and then his ribs again **and again ä́̾̔̓̐̿̏̎̑ͨ͗͊ͣ͐̚n͒̑ͣͭͧ̅̆̎͋ͣ̇̽̓ͪ̍̒d̒̿͂̌̓̏ͨ̂̇̈̊̈́̚ ͥ̉̊̾ͣ͑a̍̿͑̀̀ͫ̓̄g̈́ͯ̾̏ͣ̇̔̌͋̊͛̉̈̉̉͒ȁ͛̿ͩ̑ͯ̅͛̄͛i̿͊͗̎ͬnͭ̄ͥ̒ͪͣ̀ͯ̌̍̍͋͋̏̀͗͗̚.̆͆ͮ̓͊̆ͧ**  He heard a sickening crack, and felt a rib give way under the steel toe of his boot. Anti had his attention for a few minutes longer while the pain set in. Pushing his former host onto his back, he licked his lips as he imagined the shards of glass, pushing, giving and cracking underneath his enemy’s weight, or better, pushing their way through his skin.

“Can you feel that,  _ **Sean?“**_ Anti pushed back his hood with a toothy grin. ” _That_   **stabbing pain in your back?** The k̝ͅṇ̖̖̲̭i̜͇͉̝̠̣f͔̦e̘͔̦͖͈̖͟ ̻͎͔̩̹͞wo̠͞u͙̣̙̱͇ņ̯̬̗̝̙d͖͓̬ ̯͚͖͚̩̬i͓n͉͉̱͍̰̲̠ ̵̺͉̩͉̲̼y̖͚̗̙̮̫̩oú̺̹ṛ̢̥̺͕ ̹̞͖͎̼̪͚͝g͍͙͙u̻̘̦͖̯͖͜ͅṱ̤̟̞͈?͝ All those lovely little bruises from where I kicked you…“

"As you lie here, bleeding out, I want you to remember your fears. Your anxieties. Your self-loathing. Your hatred. **I want you to remember that _they_ are what makes me me. You. Made. Me." **

"And most of all,” he leaned down to whisper in Jack, “I want you to remember that technically, _y̤̬̻̼̻͎͇͕̖̟o̘͍̺̼̞̠̠̯̮̹̮̺͕͉̟̳u͇̖͍̙̻̩͎ ̳͉̗̝d̲͉͈̬̹i̩̻͚̫͔̦̰͖d̪̫̳̼̻̼̘͈̰͕̲ ͖̙͚t͍͖͔͔͇͙͚͓̻͎h̲͕̼̼̮͙̥̼̠̯̥̦ͅͅi̪̘̹̦͈͙͚̺ͅs̠̪̜̗̖͎̟͇̤̥̥ ̘̟̣͇̞̠̟̟̬͔̱̭̜͈̺̼̘̪t̥͎̗̺̘̖̖̗̹̙̯ͅo͓̰͔̝̰̬̗͇̬͈̥̩ͅ ̫̦̦̮̼̗̯͖̠y̖̥̮̘͖̤̹o̭̣̼̣̺̤̫̹̻̹̹͇u̝͈̭̲̹̘̻͈̟͖͇̘r̮̹̩͖̥̻̼̥̻ͅs̥͖̻̣̯̣̼̳̠̺ͅe͔̙̩̻͍͓̖̮̱͈̭̦̫̣̜l̦͈͍͕̩͚̜̟̗̜̹͙̭͚͕͇̘͙f̠̣̝̭̖͖͕̯̺̩͇̲͖̘.͚̥̮̪̳͙̼͕͖͍̝̹”_


End file.
